One Night
by cajolerisms
Summary: As the Clone Wars drag on, Obi-Wan's conviction begins to crack.  Warning for Obi-Wan/Bail Organa slash


Bail Organa considered himself a good judge of people and situations. A lifetime at the center of planetary and then galactic politics saw to that, and he staked his reputation and his life on it. He had an excellent track record in choosing friends and allies, which is what made this moment particularly humbling.

He preferred the word humbling because calling his misjudgment a mishandling of pride, or even hubris, was easier than calling it what it easily threatened to become: the biggest mistake of his life.

He watched Obi-Wan's face with growing dread. What he had imagined would be a moment of joy and triumph was quickly devolving into a disaster. Silence stretched between them. His oldest Jedi friend's bright, changeable eyes, which often belied his emotion when he was unguarded and relaxed, were as unreadable as stone. The room was only dimly lit, but Bail was certain that their color wasn't the vibrant blue or green he had predicted.

Finally, Obi-Wan spoke. "How can you justify this?" he demanded. "And don't try to manipulate the situation. I'm not a Senate crony."

Obi-Wan Kenobi, as well as Bail knew, was not a shallow man. His politics, and even more so his morals, were not variable. It was this dependability that drew Bail to the then-padawan in the first place. Beneath that veneer of dignified Jedi Calm, Bail knew a kind and gentle man who, despite being a little uptight at times, selflessly put duty and the Republic first before all else.

This was a man who knew how to fight a war, but who valued peace. He took refuge from the chaos in small, fine pleasures like a comfortable chair, soft music, and an excellent wine. He took all of these tonight with a deep sigh and a smile that lit up his weary face-that is, before Bail ruined everything.

In all his careful planning, from the food to the music to the wine, nowhere had Bail envisaged the flash of anger or the snarl of invectives that harshly grated over that familiar, cultured voice. For once, Bail was at a loss for words. He was rarely this wrong about a situation.

Obi-Wan's eyes darted to and fro in agitation, eventually settling on the box in front of him.

"I can't believe you!" he said for what Bail felt was the hundredth time. "What were you thinking?"

"I-I didn't think you'd get so upset," Bail replied lamely. He was stunned and shamed into speechlessness. He didn't think he had ever misjudged anything quite as badly as he had tonight.

Obi-Wan responded with an incredulous laugh. "Were you thinking at all, Bail?"

Apparently not, though Bail leaned against escalating their exchange by admitting as much. "If you don't like it, you don't have to take it."

"This isn't about me and whether I like it. If you haven't noticed, Senator, we are at war."

"Of course I know we're at war."

"Then I must have missed the ordinance that said all legislators must take leave of their senses! I thought you were better than this!" Obi-Wan sent the box sliding across the table with a flick of his finger, stopping it abruptly in front of Bail. "If this is the sort of thing you're spending your time and resources on, then you might as well throw mud in the faces of every one of my troops!"

And me. The statement remained unfinished, but Bail didn't need this spelled out for him.

"You may not be feeling any ill effects in the Senate, Your Highness," Obi-Wan continued, but there are trillions of people out there without food, water, or medical supplies. Their worlds are destroyed because of this war. Millions are dying at this moment because of the decisions you and I make, and _this_," he gestured angrily at the box, opening it for Bail to look inside. "Is not how you keep the best interests of the Republic in mind."

Bail hid behind his hand, barely suppressing a groan. He could feel Obi-Wan's-no, General Kenobi's-gaze on him. The music playing softly from the living room was oppressive. Obi-Wan was right, and somehow lost in his own head, Bail had betrayed his own hard-held principles for a bauble.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "You're right. You're right about everything. It was thoughtless of me to the extreme. What can I do to fix it?"

Obi-Wan snorted derisively. Though nowhere near the kohl-black box, itself a relic of unparalleled craftsmanship, Obi-Wan lifted the pendant from its bed. It floated accusingly before Bail, with its large center gem surrounded by nine smaller iridescent crystals. The whole thing picked up the light from the candles on the table, emitting back the soft, ethereal glow that made the rare stone so expensive. Wasteful, Obi-Wan had spat.

It settled back down in the box without a sound. Bail looked across the table at Obi-Wan, who still had his attention on the pendant. Something was different about his expression, but Bail couldn't place it.

Abruptly, he stood, his chair scraping against the rug. Bail watched in dismay as he walked silently across the dining room and disappeared into the hall. He returned quickly with his uniform cloak already draped over his shoulders.

Bail stood to protest, but Obi-Wan spoke first.

"Thank you for dinner, Senator. Good night," he said smoothly, the mantle of Jedi calm affixed firmly back in place.

Bail swallowed heavily. His dinner sat leaden in his stomach and he urged himself not to be sick. The person standing in his doorway was no longer Obi-Wan, but indeed General Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Grand Army of the Republic-implacable in conflict and unerringly loyal to the Government which he served. He folded his arms in the cloak, waiting patiently for the Senator from the Sovereign System of Alderaan to dismiss him.

Bail felt something break inside him at this cold formality, but so long as he didn't issue a dismissal, Obi-Wan couldn't leave. Protocol and rank wouldn't allow it.

Wrong as he ever was, Obi-Wan waited several long minutes before bowing low. "Good night, Senator."

"Don't go," Bail pleaded. "Please. Please let me fix this."

The man stood as still as a statue. He peered across the chasm between them from within his cloak, and then directly at Bail with intense focus. Time dragged out, but Bail could see that Obi-Wan was thinking and forced himself to stay quiet. Something stirred in those bright, changeable eyes then.

"Why?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

"Because I was so afraid I was going to lose you," Bail said simply. Obi-Wan's brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but Bail pressed on. "We kept getting those casualty reports from the Lookout Base, and I didn't know what to think...then I heard you were alive and en route back home..." he swallowed and actually wiped his sweaty palms on his robe. Everything he planned to say evaporated. "I remembered that conversation we had those months ago when you were last on leave-"

He saw Obi-Wan's eyes grow wide and something within yield. "Bail," he whispered. He crossed the room in a few steps and opened the box again with trembling fingers. Bail watched without breathing as Obi-Wan touched the pendant and let out a low sound that he couldn't tell was a laugh or a sob.

"You got me a proposal gift," he said at last, looking up to meet Bail's face. His eyes were over-bright.

"Yes," Bail said.

Obi-Wan fell to his knees, the box and pendant tumbling to the floor and onto the dark rug, Bail followed him in alarm, taking the shaking body in his arms and murmuring his name over and over.

"We can't, we can't," Obi-Wan gasped. "You know we can't!"

"Just one night," Bail begged. "Let's pretend, just for one night, that nothing else matters."

Obi-Wan began to sob in earnest now, his curses against the war, the Jedi, and even Bail himself coming in broken, hiccoughing fragments. Bail held him, letting him spill out his grief over his slain master, his self doubts, and every horror and hurt from the war, marveling that he could keep this to himself for so long.

When he could at last catch his breath, he took Bail's hand in his and squeezed tight. "This is the most wonderful and most terrible thing anyone has ever done for me," he said with a watery chuckle.

"I ruined everything," Bail murmured with chagrin. "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. You're all I have to come home to." He snuffled and nodded in thanks when Bail handed him a napkin. "I think this war has driven me insane."

Bail kissed his temple, and then his mouth, mindless of Obi-Wan's half-hearted protests and wet face. "I love you regardless. I mean it. I would marry you in a heartbeat if you said yes."

"Breha-" It was a pointless question. They both knew it was a political match and exceptions could be made. Reality, though, was far more complicated.

"Just tonight, or just this leave period, or even whenever you want," Bail pleaded. "We can forget everything and be together."

Obi-Wan buried his face in Bail's shoulder, and he could feel him shuddering anew, though silently. They sat on the run like this for longer than their dinner and argument lasted, past when the candles burned out and the music recording ended. Bail nuzzled Obi-Wan's hair and neck, wishing he could banish the darkness that Obi-Wan suffered in silence. He would take Obi-Wan away from all this if he could but they had duty regardless of all else: Bail to his people, Obi-wan to the Jedi, and they both to the Republic. The only refuge they could take was in fantasy.

When the sky began to lighten through the window, first to grey and then to orange, Obi-Wan stirred. He looked as tired and drawn as Bail had ever seen him. The light highlighted the grey hairs appearing at his temples and the freshly healed scar beneath his jaw.

"I have another two weeks this time," he said hoarsely. "Minus a few Council meetings. We better make this time count.

Now it was Bail's turn to clutch Obi-Wan, though there has been enough heartache between them so he opted for a kiss instead. He tilted Obi-Wan's chin up and covered his eager mouth with his own. They sank into each other, everything forgotten for only a moment as the world became their two bodies and the space between them existed only to be bridged. When it ended, they rested their foreheads together and let their fingers linger over each other's throats and faces.

"I'm not taking that necklace," Obi-Wan said.

Bail laughed. "I'll return it and donate the money."

"Good. Now," Obi-Wan extricated himself from their tangled heap. "I'm too old for the floor. Take me to bed."

Bail pulled himself up with a grunt. "Anything you say, love."

Obi-Wan pulled him for another kiss, this one definitely more heated and heavy with desire, judging from how he undulated his way in between Bail's teeth with his talented tongue. "Two weeks," he said again. "And then, Force knows. This war must someday, one way or another."

"Two weeks." Force knows indeed. It would have to be enough until next time, or, Bail hated to think, for a lifetime. He would make it count.


End file.
